


A Creature Unlike His Kind

by Arrestzelle



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Body Worship, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Non-Human Genitalia, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:27:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26658931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arrestzelle/pseuds/Arrestzelle
Summary: After an inexplicable turn of events in his life, Paul ends up falling in love with a merman. Richard. He takes the curious merman out on a boat ride, and this time, the turn of events are completely predicted, and anticipated.
Relationships: Richard Kruspe/Paul Landers
Comments: 13
Kudos: 56





	A Creature Unlike His Kind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nara_ism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nara_ism/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Auf dem Meer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13840164) by [Nara_ism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nara_ism/pseuds/Nara_ism). 



> This is based on Nara_ism's lovely AU, [Auf dem Meer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13840164/chapters/31830477)! I wanted more (indulgent) smut with Richard's non-phallic bits, so here we are. A few things about this fic isn't accurate to the main story; I took some liberties for my own personal enjoyment. Richard has different genitalia, for example. Similar, but different.

The sun is a kiss that had been missed. Fall is coming, undeniably now. Chillier in the mornings and in the evenings. Shortening days. Paul always missed the warmth and the sun of the summer days. It also meant the water is more bearable to enter, if only to spend time with his lover. Boyfriend? Merfriend? Paul has to ask Richard what they refer to each other by, now that he thinks about it. During the fall and winter, Paul will have to just go in with a wetsuit every time. Although, does Richard and his kind migrate anywhere for the cold season? Surely not? Paul hopes not. 

A smile lingers on his face as he paces out from the cottage, basket hooked in arm. Wearing a hoodie and baggy black pants, it makes for perfect contentment. The afternoon sun is gentle. He doesn’t feel like getting wet today—admittedly, he’s gotten a bit fed up with always having wet clothes, or enduring the chill of the water just to be with the other (mer)man. And the sand! The sand is so annoying to deal with, constantly, following their frequent visits to secluded beaches. 

Pacing out onto the pier, his sandals are loud upon it, smacking with every step that surely alerts not only any creature that happens to be lurking under the water, but every villager within a ten kilometer radius. Paul stops at the very end of the pier. He sits down, crossing his legs, basket placed beside him. Leaning forward, elbows to his knees, he props his chin atop his fisted hands, watching the lapping water with a faint smile. Like a sixth sense, Paul is pretty confident he can sense him now. And he knows he’s down there. 

For only two minutes he’s left to wait. And then Paul sees a shadowed, wobbling shape below the surface, slowly rising. A distorted painting of Richard’s handsome face becomes clearer and clearer, until he breaks the surface tension of the water and begins noisily dripping from his ears, jaw, chin, hair. A coy smile is on his face. Water droplets cling to his eyelashes. 

“Hello there,” Paul greets softly. Richard beams, showing off brazen teeth. 

“Didja bring me something?” Richard muses, reaching out a dripping hand to hook it onto the side of the pier, pawing at the basket. Paul huffs.

“I don’t even get a ‘hello’. I see how it is. You gold digger. You just want me for my food.”

“But… There is no gold to dig around here?” Richard replies with a confused laugh and a tilt of his head, “Otherwise, I surely would. You know, it would be much easier for me to find. I’ve seen humans using a pan to find gold, but it’s very insufficient.”

“Unfortunately,” Paul begins, reaching down to place his hand upon Richard’s, stroking the wet, cold skin there, “We don’t have the same eyesight you do, nor the ability to breathe underwater.”

“It’s quite sad, really,” Richard remarks with a bratty tilt of his head and a sly grin, “Inferior, even.”

“Alright, none of that.”

Richard laughs radiantly, head tilting back with a broad grin and twinkling eyes—it lights his face up. Paul grins. Cute. Finally, Paul removes the cloth draped over the basket and produces a pretzel he just purchased from the bakery not even an hour ago. It’s soft, and smells amazing. Paul holds it out for him.

“These are my favorite. You should savor—”

Snatching it from Paul’s hand, Richard stuffs the entire thing in his maw and chews only four times before swallowing it thickly. He licks his lips and looks up at Paul with delight on his face.

“That was yummy! Soft, and tasty. Do you have more?”

Paul rolls his eyes with a shake of his head. 

“What else, what else!” Richard demands, hoisting himself higher up with a powerful whipping of his tail underwater, if only to give himself more leverage. He peeks into the basket. Paul reaches in to grab one of the cookies with raspberry filling and holds it out for him. Eyes wide and trained on the curious little pastry, Richard delicately takes it between his fingers and sniffs at it. Then he crams it into his mouth with a ravenous, unattractive snort much akin to an animal, and devours it with similar pace. This one has him licking his lips ten times, thrice more than the pretzel. He beams. Paul smiles faintly, exasperated. 

Eventually, Richard consumes the entire basket with only a cookie spared for Paul’s enjoyment. The basket is set aside, and Richard hoists himself up onto the pier with a wet slap of his tail and a spray of water. He sits beside Paul, leaning back into his elbows. Paul watches him sway his elegant, massive tail back and forth in the water down below. Richard is already grabbing at the sleeve and tugging gently, a needy noise rumbling in his throat. Paul huffs, giving him a little smile.

“I don’t want to get wet, Richard…”

“Come onnn,” Richard groans, tipping his head back, “You came here to snuggle, so snuggle with me!”

“Let the sun dry you a bit first.”

Richard huffs, directing a powerful pout his way with a pronounced bottom lip and the saddest eyes. “So mean.”

Paul snorts. He reaches out to pet at Richard’s belly, muscled and fit. He traces the lines of his abs (which, really, should be expected considering how much Richard moves his entire body as he swims, undoubtedly centered in his core), and then his fingers explore further south, to appreciate the border where warm, pale skin bleeds into radiant scales. Richard reaches out to stroke the back of his hand along Paul’s arm. But he seems to dislike the lack of exposed skin. While Paul rests his hand on Richard’s belly, Richard pushes up his sleeve and then strokes at his forearm. Fingers outstretched, he lovingly pets at his human’s soft skin, decorated with the occasional freckle and fair arm hair. Paul smiles warmly. Richard looks up at him with needy eyes and a pouting frown.

“So impatient,” Paul chuckles. He plants his hand on the warm wood of the pier and leans over. Richard grins just before Paul angles his head and kisses him. Richard’s mouth is wet and cooled from the chilly water, but warms up just as quickly. Richard hums into it, low and pleased. Their lips crush together—and in result, an excited thrill bursts through Paul. 

Even though he and Richard have been this way for months now, it’s still quite a shock to Paul that he’s come this far. Here he is, making out with not just a man, but a fucking _merman_. So much for being only into women. It’s almost… _Naughty_ , for lack of a better word, for him to be doing this. Maybe that’s why he gets so damn excited doing these things with Richard. It feels just a little wrong. Like Paul shouldn’t be fucking a creature unlike his kind in the first place, and additionally, this beautiful, wonderful gift of nature is a man—it’s like a secret that only exists here, on this island.

“Can we have sex?” Richard whispers against his mouth, “I want to see you naked again. Your human body is really cute.”

God—and he will never get used to his bluntness. He’s so—Paul doesn’t even know. It’s like he’s just as fascinated with Paul’s humanity as Paul is with his non-humanity. Calling his body _cute_ … Paul is blushing now, huffing with a soft laugh against Richard’s mouth. Despite being together in this way for this long, it seems Richard’s curiosity is still just as strong as Paul’s. Surely, he must know every little feature of this human body of his, but still, he wants to explore. A merman’s curiosity and need to establish possession, he supposes. Richard pecks him twice, giggling, just before Paul pulls back to search his face.

“We can have sex,” Paul murmurs, glancing between those hypnotizing, stark green eyes, dilated now with Richard’s arousal, “But I want to do it elsewhere. I have a surprise.”

Richard’s grinning face softens in surprise, eyebrows raising. Paul reaches up to gently fix Richard’s wettened hair, watching himself run his fingers through the jet black locks, so they’re more swept to the side, save for the few locks that rest against his forehead. Richard smiles at him, eyes adoring and curious.

“What is it? Tell me, tell me!”

He wiggles closer to Paul with a thump of his tail against the pier, punctuated by a splash of water. Paul laughs. He drapes his arms around his now-dry lover, who eagerly leans against him in return, looking up at him with a beaming face. 

“It’s a secret,” Paul muses, bringing one hand up to stroke a fingertip along Richard’s nose, earning a slight flinch that had no right to be so adorable. Paul snickers, continuing, “It’s all ready to go. Pull yourself up entirely onto the pier.”

Richard blinks. He smiles thinly.

“Does this have to do with whatever you were doing on the boat?”

Paul laughs.

“You are just always watching me, aren’t you?!”

“Maybe.”

Then Richard hoists himself up onto the pier completely, curling his massive, thick tail onto the wood planks with a wet slap and a spray of water. Paul admires; his tail is beautiful. Big, smooth scales, glistening colorfully in the sun. 

“You wouldn’t get splinters, would you?” Paul asks, worried, with a hand extending to pet at the curled base of his tail. His scales are almost soft to the touch. They move along with the stroke of his fingers. Richard shakes his head. He wiggles the tapered end of his lengthy tail and muses, “No, my scales are much too thick for a puny bit of wood. If I got splinters, imagine how hurt I would get just swimming around! Stuff in the sea can be sharp, too, you know. Rocks, and plants, and tight squeezes.”

Paul grins.

“Scales like armor, huh?”

“Maybe not that tough.”

Paul laughs. He stands. Richard beams up at him like a sea puppy. It’s cute. Paul gestures to the boat.

“Can you manage to crawl over to the boat? Or shall I carry you?”

He knows Richard can easily manage to climb in over the side, but the last time he did, the whole thing nearly capsized—if there are other methods to boarding it, he’d like to pursue those. Richard flexes his tail and then rises up, so he’s more or less sitting back on it, like a curled snake. 

“No problem. I just won’t look very graceful.”

“Will you move like a caterpillar, or a snake?”

Richard grins. He plants his hands on his hips.

“I guess you’ll find out, won’t you?”

Snickering, Paul nods. He begins towards the boat. Along the length of the dock, he kneels to quickly, efficiently untie the boat’s connecting rope from the five cleats, which strapped it in place. The water laps noisily at the hull of the boat, and the pier itself. Meanwhile, he hears Richard shuffling closer, and he can’t help but glance over. Richard is definitely combining the two: he’s down on his front, using hands as leverage, while he shimmies over the wood with a whipping of his tail. Paul has to bite his lip to stifle a laugh. Richard crawls the rest of the way over, much like a massive caterpillar, tail curling up to push himself forward, then he plops down beside Paul with a satisfied grin. 

“I made it,” he says, “Proud of me?”

Paul laughs. He throws the rope in the boat.

“Let me help you in, at least.”

Once the anchor is lifted and the engine is started, Paul peels out into the sea. Richard is seated at the edge of the boat, long tail hanging over the side to drag through the water as they leave the safety of Till’s property. The water smacks noisily around them. The engine growls. Paul drives for a few minutes, until they’re far enough that a massive wall of overwhelming rock shields their view of anything else. Just the sound of the sea, and nothing more. Paul cuts the engine, and throws down the anchor. Richard watches him from where he’s perched, a smile on his face. He’s moving the end of his tail around under the water, casually, comfortably. 

“You gonna show me what’s under the tarp?” he asks sweetly, arms folded atop the edge of the boat, fingers drumming against his forearms. Paul stifles a smile. He turns away, and begins towards the platform at the stern of the boat. He hears Richard shuffle after him, with a noisy slap of his tail against the deck. Untying the tarp, Paul carefully strips it off, one corner at a time, revealing an arrangement of blankets and pillows, along with a bunch of junk food he specifically got for Richard positioned nicely in a basket. Nothing too amazing, but if anything, it should make for a nice memory. 

“Ohhh!” Richard exclaims with awe, quickly thumping his way over to the display, only to roll over into the blankets and pillows with a big curl of his long tail. The webbed end hits against Paul’s legs, dripping with water. Paul laughs. Richard nuzzles into a pillow, and then beckons the human over with a curl of his hand. Smiling, Paul takes a second to strip off his hoodie, followed by his baggy pants—the sun embraces his body. He’s thankful of the clouds in the sky. It won’t be uncomfortably hot, beating down on him. Left only in his boxers, Paul joins Richard on the blankets. Richard laughs, wrapping his arms around him. Paul leans in to kiss his forehead. He jumps slightly with a shocked laugh—Richard is curling his heavy tail around his legs, entrapping him. His scales are smooth and cool against his skin.

“Gotcha,” Richard teases, grinning, baring his teeth with a twinkle in his eyes. Paul gulps.

They spend an indulgently long time making out atop the comfortable nest. Richard runs his ravenous hands along Paul’s bare sides, nails slightly bared, raking up and down along freckled skin, warmed by the sun. The soft, wet sounds of their overlapping lips is almost peaceful, oddly enough, when joined by the gentle lapping of the water along the hull of the boat. Paul feels like he’s being consumed. Richard has his heavy tail wound around his legs, like a constricting snake. He can feel the intense, powerful muscles underneath the layer of scales, flexing occasionally as they kissed. Those hands, roughened just a bit by the saltwater, are running over his back and upwards to cradle the back of his head. 

Richard nips at Paul’s bottom lip playfully, sucking it in-between his teeth, earning an amused chuckle from him, and then licks into his mouth. Paul is amazed how _human_ Richard feels and tastes during these moments. He could almost forget he’s a sea creature, if not for the massive fish tail clenching around his legs.

“Please,” Richard whines against Paul’s chin, lips drunkenly moving against his skin—Paul tenses up, feeling a hand slipping between them to palm at his cock through his boxers. He had been getting a bit stiff, and he’s sure Richard can feel it. Hearing him say such a thing only sends another _zing_ of blood right down into his dick, regardless. Richard is huffing against his face, arm wound around his back. He’s fondling and squeezing his half-hard cock like he wants nothing more, and it’s honestly extremely hot. Paul moans.

“Don’t you—don’t you want to snack a bit first?” he manages to get out, only to bite his tongue when those greedy fingers slip further down to cup and squeeze his balls through the thin fabric of his boxers. Richard hums softly, and nods against him, their foreheads nuzzling.

“I do. On you, baby.”

“Oh—clever,” Paul huffs. Richard laughs, a deep, pleased chuckling in his throat. He drops his head back down against the pillows. Paul gazes at him with hazy, dilated eyes. Richard looks adorable, and beautiful. His eyes are lovesick, cheeks ruddy, lips pulled into a pleased grin. His black hair is dried now, a messy display which is what really makes it cute. 

“Please—” Richard continues softly, eyes becoming hooded and weak, and this time, grabs Paul by the wrist. He guides it down; Paul lifts off of him just enough to look down, propped up on his elbow. Richard pushes his fingers down towards the slit at the base where skin meets scales. Paul can see it beginning to peek open again, showing a soft, pink film. Like a human vagina, it reminds him of a hymen—which probably isn’t the sexiest thought, but it’s one that exists regardless. The demure, pink tip of his penis is beginning to peek out, and like an erection trapped under cloth, Paul can see a bulge behind the so-called “hymen”. Curious, Paul has an idea.

“Let up a bit,” Paul murmurs, reaching back to pat at Richard’s muscular tail. Richard slowly unravels his tail from around him, the wide, fanned end slapping against the blankets with a muted thud. Released, Paul shifts down, careful to avoid kneeing any part of that precious tail. The boat isn’t that long—he has to curl his body to the side, closer to Richard. He mouths at Richard’s heaving belly, enjoying the soft tickle of his dried stomach hair, and then ducks his head further down to sweep his tongue into the fold of the slit. Richard’s lower half lurches. He gasps sharply, head cocking back into the pillows, only to lift again and watch with wide eyes. Richard tastes exceptionally… Like a fish. 

Paul has done this before, so he isn’t surprised, but it always amuses him. With a thorough rinsing of water, there is a more dull taste, lessening the built salt from the sea, but this is fine, too. Paul just can’t go at it for too long or else he’ll need to stop to chug some water.

With that being said, he licks and licks into the slit, hands cupped around Richard’s trembling hips, while Richard himself thumps his tail loudly against the deck and whimpers and whines and sobs. God, his sensitivity and responsiveness drives Paul mad. It encourages him to find the lip of the hymen with his tongue and sink further into his opening—and immediately bumps into his penis. It’s thick and hot against his tongue. Richard is going nuts. He’s grunting and huffing, crying out Paul’s name in which, truly, could be classified as a scream. He’s wiggling his tail and desperately clutching at the human’s freckled shoulders. Paul isn’t intimidated by the presence of his dick; he just licks at its bulging shape, _within_ the tight grip of his hole. It’s a bit weird, but Paul is more than adaptive at this point.

“Oh—Oh, God! More! That feels so good—Paul! _Paul!_ Nnngh—” Richard is blabbering mindlessly, only to break off into a broken trail of whimpers and moans. Paul is thrusting his tongue into the curiously warm, pungent-tasting cavern of his genitalia. His penis is pushing back. It’s pushing, and growing, and finally sliding out from that slit, spreading it open wide and flopping out against Paul’s mouth and chin. Woah. Paul laughs and mouths at it, too. This is sweeter tasting, now, almost. Not quite _sweet_ , but it’s… Somewhat nice. He couldn’t even begin to describe it, but he likes it more than the saltiness of his “vagina”. It must be the fluid it’s secreting, it has to be.

He guides it into his mouth with his tongue and starts sucking at it firmly. Just a couple inches—it’s very thick at the base, and somewhat daunting. He watches Richard’s face twist with pleasure as he does so. Those eyes snap open again to watch. His hands have gravitated up into his hair, clutching the back of his head. Paul nurses at his cute, pink appendage with sucked in cheeks, brow furrowed—he still isn’t quite sure what the best method of approach is with a dick so foreign to him. Richard throws his head back and moans, gutturally. Paul breaks off and angles his head to lathe his tongue along the side and base. It’s so pink and incredibly soft against his tongue. The way it’s slightly undulating is a bit strange, but then again, human dicks can do the same thing: flexing. But the way he’s doing it makes it look like it has a mind of its own. Paul nuzzles into it, eyes closed, and curiously tests it with his teeth. And that sure gets a reaction: Richard’s tail jerks, slapping against the hull with a thud. His dick throbs against Paul’s lips, spurting a thick glob of pre-cum against his belly. 

“Fuck,” Richard gasps, panting harshly now, shaking, “So sensitive—Paul—c-careful.”

“You’re so horny,” Paul chuckles, “Naughty little thing.”

“Shut up!” Richard moans. Paul laughs harder now. He gently cups his hand around the underside of Richard’s straining shaft and pins it up against his clenched belly. He dips his head down to slide his tongue back into the slit, past the thick base of his cock. Richard’s hips, once again, violently lurch back against the blankets. He exclaims in pure pleasure. Paul can _feel_ the insane muscle of his tail clench around his tongue. He’s familiar with this. Paul keeps his lips suctioned around the base, getting a slight taste of that peculiar sweetness, while working his tongue in and out of his tight, ambiguously warm hole. Richard is snarling now, tail straining and curling and flexing. He’s clutching at his back, which does hurt from the force of which he’s gripping him, but not enough to stop. Paul’s tongue is actually forced out from the strength of which his muscles clench. He chuckles, and just resumes licking at the slit itself, rubbing his tongue along the sensitive, bright pink flesh. Richard is trembling wildly, his breathing ragged and exhausted. 

Only once his jaw hurts does Paul stop. He lifts his head. Richard is splayed back into the pillows, face slack, hands resting up by his head. His chest is heaving. His skin is flushed. And there is even more pre-cum pooling in the lines of his belly. Wow.

“Why—do you let out so much?” Paul asks, amazed. He scrubs his mouth off on his wrist. Richard grunts weakly. He doesn’t open his eyes.

“Doesn’t last long underwater—the… The lubrication.”

He’s breathless. He can barely talk. Paul pets at his side. Then he brings his fingers in to curiously dip them within the clear, shiny fluid, and brings it to his mouth. That has Richard lifting his head and watching. Paul sucks it off and pauses. It tastes almost like nothing. Again, that very slight sweetness, but not quite sweetness, either. Weird.

“Please put this in me now,” Richard moans, reaching out to palm Paul’s hard dick through his boxers, cupping it firmly. Paul shudders. He nods. Richard hooks his fingers into the hem, and violently rips his underwear down his thighs, his cock springing up. Richard giggles, almost drunkenly, and reaches in to delicately cup his balls in his hand, and rolls them around in his fingers. Paul blushes.

“So soft and delicate,” Richard muses, “I wonder how it would taste on my tongue… Can I put them in my mouth?”

He looks at Paul with wide, bright eyes and a broad, hopeful grin. He continues lightly squeezing and playing with his balls. At least he knows not to be too rough—one occurrence of him testing their durability in his grip was enough. Paul huffs, red-faced. This isn’t the first time he’s asked. Paul had been too surprised and shy the first time, and sputtered about how he isn’t sure, and doesn’t Richard want to move on to the best part already? So this time, Paul is more prepared, and just bites his lip and nods. Richard beams, and shuffles up, rising onto his hand, and leans over at the waist towards Paul’s lower half. 

“Wait!” Paul blurts, reaching out to brace his hand against Richard’s forehead, halting him. Richard looks at him with an impatient expression on his face. Paul slumps over against Richard’s tail and laughs. 

“Just—slow down. Let me get up, and we can do it in a more comfortable arrangement.”

Somehow, a merman eagerly rushing to put his balls in his mouth is cracking him the hell up. He’s still sniffling with amusement and giggling to himself while he gets up. Richard’s hand reluctantly slips from his groin. He pouts at him, though Paul doesn’t acknowledge it. He gets on his knees, shuffles closer across the blankets, and kneels above him. Richard, now on his elbow, looks up at him with awe. His gaze drops to fix on his genitals, right in his face. Paul cups his hand around his cock, heavy with arousal, and pins it up to his belly. Reaching out, he curls his other hand around the back of Richard’s head, and says lowly, “Alright, come on. But be gentle. I swear—I will throw you off the boat and go home if you even try and use your teeth. I’m serious.”

Richard nods eagerly, no protests to be said, and then leans in to nuzzle into his groin. With the lower half of his face pressed against Paul’s inner thighs, his nose and eyes end up smothered into his balls. Oh, fuck—Paul exhales sharply at that. His eyelashes tickle him. Richard hums and begins kissing over his balls—and practically everywhere else in the vicinity. Paul is glad he shaved this morning. 

“So soft,” Richard giggles, raising a hand to delicately cradle his balls with his fingers. Lifting them up, he angles his head and carefully closes his mouth around them, like they were a delicacy to savor. Savoring—apparently a capability of his, after all. Paul moans. He can’t help but begin touching himself lightly, stroking just a little bit at his cock while he watches Richard curiously draw them further into his mouth with a slow curl of his tongue. It’s like he’s _coaxing_ them deeper inside. His lips are closed gently around the base of his balls. The entire thing is in his fucking mouth. His beautiful green eyes are open and trained up on Paul’s. Paul shakily spreads his thighs further apart. Richard grunts. He’s sucking now. Paul squeezes his eyes shut, mouth falling open. He tightens his hand around the back of Richard’s head, fingers threaded in black. Holy shit.

Richard pulls off abruptly, his wettened balls slipping from his mouth. Licking his lips, Richard smiles and says, “Tastes like you. It’s cute. This part of you is cute. Cute, delicate, little part of my Paul.”

He brings his hands up to curl his fingers under and around his balls. He begins kneading at them gingerly. Paul groans, shaking. He has never been _worshipped_ on that part of him like this. Richard, meanwhile, lifts his head just enough to softly suck the head of his cock into his mouth. Paul gasps sharply, and moans weakly, hand gripping tightly around the base. Hypnotized, he watches, eyes wide. Indulgent and greedy, Richard begins working his mouth firmly over his cock while squeezing and massaging at his balls. It doesn’t last long. He sucks at his dick for just a moment, and pulls off with a pleased giggle, those mischievous eyes flicking up to meet Paul’s.

“Your penis is so cute, too, you know. Tastes nice. I like how it feels in my mouth. Big, and hard, and warm,” he goes on, bringing his hand up to tease the head with a fingertip, “But the tip here is very soft at the same time? The texture is interesting against my tongue.”

“Jesus, Richard,” Paul laughs breathlessly, raking his fingers through Richard’s black hair, barely able to withstand this kind of talk, “You’re too much.”

Without replying, Richard just grins and then leans back down with an angling of his head to lick at his balls in his hand. He nuzzles into the soft, delicate skin there and teeths at it so gently, Paul barely feels the shadow of pain at all. But seeing it is enough to make him clench up and groan in shock. Glancing over, Paul sees his thick, pink appendage lewdly hanging from his opening. Richard is resting on his side. He should have expected that vulgar sight. It’s clenching, flexing repeatedly while oozing a continuous line of pre-cum. The blanket is becoming absolutely soaked below him. 

Paul’s gaze jerks back down upon feeling that hot, curious mouth suck his balls back in. Richard is looking up at him with pleased, piercing eyes while playing with his balls in his mouth. He lets them pop out from his wet, pinkened lips, and then curls his tongue around them repeatedly, letting them slip into his mouth again and again. He’s giggling at this point. Gripping his scrotum at the base, he holds it taut while angling his head to rub his nose into them. He lathes his tongue flatly across the soft, flushed skin there. Paul is on fire. He’s fucking _playing_ with his balls now—that’s too much.

“Okay, stop,” he laughs, shakily, “Stop—I can’t believe—just. Just… Lay back.” 

Richard bursts out a laugh.

“Shy, aren’t you? You don’t like me playing with your cute little human parts?”

Paul’s face burns. Richard is grinning, but doesn’t tease him further. He palms at his slick balls once more, and then moves to lay back down against the pillows. Paul follows, working his boxers all the way off his legs now. 

He admires how Richard grabs his thick cock, pink and big in his hand, and rests it nicely against his belly. Paul inhales deeply, and then crawls over his lover. Richard beams up at him, much too pleased for his own good. Paul is still blushing. Straddling Richard, he should have expected a sneaky hand to slip down and cradle his balls, squeezing. Lurching, Paul exclaims, and in result, Richard simply laughs harder.

“Richard!” Paul snaps, pushing his hand away by the wrist. Richard drops his hand up by his head and giggles with an adorably amused expression on his face. Sighing, Paul pointedly ignores the way his ears burn hotly. Why did he get the unbearably mischievous merman, who seeks only to torture him with his crude ways? He knows that all of them aren’t like this. Like Doom. No, he would never play with his balls in such an obscene way, until Paul blew a casket. Actually, now that he thinks about it, Doom would kind of intimidate him.

Shaking his flustered thoughts, he reaches down to grab Richard’s slick cock and then promptly freezes. An abrupt concept pops into his head. He pauses, staring at his pink vulva (now he’s the one being crude!): a subtle open lip at the base of his shaft.

“Can you—” he begins, “Are you able to penetrate yourself?”

He begins cautiously angling Richard’s flexible cock backwards with a twist of his hand. Richard shows no signs of pain, at least. It seems to conform to whatever shape he wishes, even if he’s fully aroused—very unlike a human penis. Richard giggles. Apparently, Paul’s fascination with _his_ body is quite amusing.

“It’s a risky form of masturbation,” he says, “But I’d rather put it into yours than my own.”

“Risky?” Paul prompts, completely overlooking that second comment with a red face. He immediately straightens Richard’s penis once more. It undulates in his grip. He releases it. Richard hums. He stretches his back and strains his tail—Paul hears a couple pops of his elongated spine. Richard speaks softly. 

“It’s not exactly where it’s supposed to go. Some idiots who go too far get their penis stuck. Our inner muscles can get too… Tense? As you know. Plus, it’s all in the same hole. It makes it more difficult to pull it out. Can get lost in there, y’know?”

Ah. Paul has heard horror stories with sex toys for humans, surely that applies to merpeople as well. He knows what he means.

“Oh… So you’d only do it to a certain amount.”

“Yeah. All you really have to do is keep your thumb around the base and it won’t go in too far.”

Paul is greatly intrigued by this concept. He’s wondering how it would look. 

“You’ll have to show me sometime.”

Richard laughs, watching him with amused, loving eyes. He nods.

“Sure. But can I have yours first?”

He reaches down to touch lightly at Paul’s stiff shaft. Paul huffs. He nods—he knows he’s taking _ages_ to get to it already, if only based on Richard’s insatiable standards. Straddling Richard’s hips, he shifts down just enough to grip his cock and angle it. He sweeps the head past Richard’s wet, pink cock, a swipe that earns a shudder from them both, and then nudges the tip into the small opening found just below. The lip spreads when Paul puts in just a little pressure, and then the hole opens easily, letting him slide inside in one slick motion. Wow—and he will never get used to this texture. It’s tighter than anything or anyone he’s ever been in before. Well, save for Richard. These muscles clenching and working around his cock are simply amazing.

Richard arches his entire body, groaning brokenly, punctuated by three heaving gasps for air, before he says harshly, “Oh, yes! Paul, yes! Deeper! More! Give me all of it!”

Shuddering hard, grunting under his breath, Paul barely retains the right state of mind to push in the rest of the way, until his balls are smothered against Richard’s frontal scales. He’s warm, and very, very wet this deep inside of him. Paul isn’t exactly sure _what_ he’s pushing into—he doesn’t know merman anatomy. But Richard is shaking hard, and his tail is wrapping around his leg again, which is a good sign that he’s liking it. Paul shifts a little into a more optimal position, which has Richard lurching with a deep grunt. He lifts his head, dazed, and watches their joined lower halves with an open mouth and red cheeks. 

Paul moves to lay down upon him, their fronts aligned. That warm, thick substance of Richard’s lubrication coats his belly, clinging to his skin now as well. Propped on his elbows, he cups Richard’s weakened face, searching in those alluring green eyes that seem to barely focus on him at all. Richard drops his head back into the pillows. Paul leans in to nuzzle into his neck and jaw, hands continuing to cradle the sides of his face. He sits inside of him for a minute. Letting Richard enjoy the entirety of his shaft nestled deep within him, and giving himself this moment of basking in the feeling of his inner muscles squeezing around his cock like nothing else he’s ever felt in his life.

Finally, Richard seems to regain coherency just enough to wrap his arms around him, hands clutching at his back. Paul kisses his way up to his mouth. Richard makes the softest, cutest noise against his lips and weakly kisses him back. Paul begins rolling his hips. Richard lurches again, and begins giggling. He gasps and moans following every slow, deep reinsertion. He’s arching his back, hands dragging up to roughly clutch at Paul’s mussed hair. Ow—that hurts a little. Paul, at least, appreciates the enthusiasm. That massive tail is tensing around his leg. He continues rocking down into him, a slow back and forth, balls deep every time. 

“Oh, yes, baby,” Richard bursts out sharply, and then laughs breathlessly, “Oh, that’s good! Fuck me! Nnngh—oh, God!”

Shakily exhaling, Paul rises up onto a hand and peeks down between their bodies to watch his slick, flushed shaft pump into Richard. Seeing that pink rim opening wide to accept the girth of him, even the widest point at the base, is amazing. He has to slide in past Richard’s penis as well, more or less sharing the same space. Richard is losing it. His chest and belly are clenching, rolling with strain, his cock spurting pre-cum messily across himself. It’s now running in lines down his sides. 

“Fuck,” Paul gasps, unbelieving. He begins snapping his hips down against him. His thighs and balls hit against him with soft slaps, made noisier by the sleek texture of those shining scales. Richard cries out, and wiggles restlessly underneath him. Paul grunts. He has to rise up, if only to brace his hands against Richard’s hips, thumbs digging into the place where skin meets scales, pinning him down. He thrusts haphazardly, working his cock in and out of this foreign hole, while sweat runs down his back and sides. Richard is howling, screaming his name now and thrashing his tail, slapping the tapered end against the deck, making a mess of the blankets and kicking the basket of snacks elsewhere. 

Paul can barely keep him pinned. Richard is bigger than he is, stronger than he is. And he’s arching his body, thrashing his tail—it’s a bit much for Paul, who is a smaller sized human to begin with. Richard is laughing and gasping and moaning like he loves it, and then yelling like it’s too much, like he’s too sensitive. He can’t even talk coherently. He’s just pleading mindlessly, punctuated by his delirious giggling and moaning. Having sex with Richard is always the weirdest, most intense affair. Paul is always exhausted afterwards, just because the merman is such a fucking handful to deal with. It’s like he’s wrestling a shark. Or riding a mechanical bull. Though not to imply it’s a chore—it’s the best sex he’s ever had in his entire goddamn life.

Richard reaches down to clutch handfuls of his ass, gripping him closer. He begins humping up into his downward thrusts, meeting him half-way— _that_ is mind-blowing. Richard’s slick insides kneading around his cock, when joined by his enthusiastic upward thrusts, is incredible. Head craning back, Paul moans harshly, and exclaims past a ragged gasp, “Fuck, Richard, that’s so—good—You’re so fucking amazing. Oh, fuck. Oh, my God.”

“Harder, please,” Richard moans in a dazed slur, digging his nails into his ass as Paul shakily thrusts, “Please!”

Paul’s legs are aching at this point, and once again, the inability to change position always puts a strain on him. The last time they tried Richard on top, the merman nearly crushed him with the weight of his body and conjoined tail. He was never graceful with that thing out of water, anyways. Additionally, Paul is becoming winded. But he won’t rest yet—he wants to please him. 

Readjusting his hands against the deck of the boat, Paul braces his knees and with a final bout of strength, he begins really pounding into him—his hips snap against him with such force, it has Richard’s pink cock jerking with every thrust. Richard convulses and cries out, clawing at Paul’s ass and thighs so hard it stings, but amongst the euphoria of fucking him, Paul hardly notices.

The whimpering, growling, heaving noises coming from Richard are purely animalistic, and inhuman. Paul watches with wide eyes and an open mouth, hypnotized by this state Richard tends to get into when he’s about to come. He can’t focus on it though; he has to devote his energy and attention into fucking the hell out of him. The nails on his ass hurt—digging into his skin as he pounded down against the other man. His pelvis strikes against him _hard_ , driving his cock deep into the cavern of his body with borderline violent force, if only to meet Richard’s exhausting demands. Paul’s back aches from maintaining this uncomfortable position, his skin is pouring with sweat, and his thighs are burning. He’s panting raggedly, body wracked with tremors. But he doesn’t stop. He can’t, not yet.

Richard is snarling now. His body is arching, pushing up into those thrusts, and then—Paul sees his semen pump out of his cock. Unlike the force of which a human ejaculates, it’s like a pulsing excavation. Plentiful streaks of milky white fluid streams from the tip of his cock, to drip down his side. It ruins the blanket. The way his inner muscles clench like a vice around Paul’s dick is so powerful, he has no choice but to pull out with a suctioning pop that has Richard crying out sharply. Paul knows that the squeezing of his insides is just a way to further lengthen that pleasure, for his merman body to enjoy the girth inside of him, but Paul is unequipped to handle it. 

Shuddering hard, Paul reaches down to begin jerking himself off while pushing three fingers deep into Richard’s fluttering hole. It immediately tightens up firmly around him, and begins working at his fingers, convulsing and squeezing around them. Richard groans happily in pure delight. Paul begins shoving his fingers down into his opening, with the most vulgar squelching sounds joining Richard’s eruptive moaning. The manner of which Richard twists and writhes under the ecstasy of his orgasm is mesmerizing. He’s losing it. Watching him come is always unbelievable. Paul’s entire body is on fire, witnessing this. His cock aches painfully, wanting to push back into this tight hole, but he knows it would only hurt from the intensity of which it squeezes. He can tell, based solely on the grip around his fingers.

Richard is twisting his hands into the blankets now, ripping them up from their arrangement while he arches his head back and twists his hips far to the side below Paul, jostling the human a bit. His tail thumps loudly against the boat. He’s snarling, snorting, grunting deeply in his throat. He’s shaking violently. His insides are clenching tight around Paul’s fingers. His cock is still dribbling thickly with semen. Then his animalistic sounds die off into dazed, weakened whimpers. He goes absolutely limp against the boat. His penis throbs weakly, oozing with remnants of his orgasm, only to lessen to a few slow drips.

Keeping his fingers inside of the merman, Paul focuses on himself now. Shuffling higher up to straddle Richard’s hips, realigning himself, Paul jerks himself off, his body trembling wildly. His belly is sucked in, skin flushed, chest dripping with sweat. His wrist hurts. His groin is a roaring flame of arousal, burning with the need to get off. Breathing harshly through his teeth, Paul waits for the tightened muscles around his fingers to slowly, gradually weaken. And then he slips his wet fingers out, angles his cock down, and slides back in. Richard jerks like he’d been rudely awoken. He looks up at Paul with a face grimacing in pleasure. Shushing him shakily, breathing hard, Paul pets at Richard’s hair as he begins thrusting down into him again. Richard moans, dropping his head back. His massive tail weakly curls, the tapered end sliding across Paul’s calf.

“Too—much—Paul!” he gasps, chest heaving harshly, mouth agape. Paul grunts and moans, losing himself to the upcoming suffocation of his orgasm. He pumps his hips against him quickly, keeping himself buried within, balls deep, just slightly moving his hips enough to stimulate himself. 

“I know, babe,” Paul gasps, shaking uncontrollably, “I’m—Close—”

Richard is shuddering violently underneath him. His hands awaken once more, and reach out to grope Paul’s clenching ass. He encourages his thrusting with hard squeezes of his hands—and that really is enough. Body straining and locking up, Paul grunts and groans gutturally as he snaps his hips against him twice, evoking sharp whimpers from the merman. He then buries in entirely, with a rising, ragged moan melting from his open mouth. Richard continues clutching at his ass, pulling him impossibly closer.

Utterly spent, Paul collapses upon his lover. He huffs and moans genuinely against Richard’s chest. He weakly pumps into him a little more, unable to stop just yet. Richard jerks weakly at that, accompanied by an uncomfortable grunt. Paul doesn’t want to hurt him. He slowly, reluctantly slides out of him, curling his head down against Richard’s heaving chest if only to watch his slickened, pink cock slip from his hole. It’s utterly soaked with their mixture of fluids, dripping from the tip. Richard goes limp atop the rumpled blankets, panting. 

“Mmnn, love when you fill me with your semen,” Richard breathes, followed by an exhausted laugh. Paul blushes, and then snorts. 

“Just say cum,” he mumbles against his skin. “Semen is… Never mind.”

Richard makes a curious noise. But Paul is promptly distracted by another issue entirely—he curses and scrambles off of Richard with a pained groan to clutch at his leg. Ow, ow, ow, ow—his fucking calf! The muscle in his left calf is cramping up, badly. He begins desperately kneading at the locked up muscle. Of course this happens. That’s what he gets for maintaining such a position for so long. Richard is sitting up now, shifting closer and looking at him with concern written across his face. Paul huffs harshly through his teeth, eyes clenched shut. The pain is receding. Relieved, Paul’s hurried massaging becomes gentler, collected. And then it’s gone. Sighing, unraveling his legs, Paul looks at Richard with a weak grimace. Richard leans over to rest his head against his thigh, and pets at his calf gently.

“What happened?”

Suddenly, Paul feels very, very tired.

“My leg cramped up. Happens when I overwork myself without stretching first… Or exceeding my limits, I suppose. I don’t know. Shit happens to my pathetic human legs, Richard. It’s inexplicable.”

Richard pouts. He kisses his thigh. Despite his exhaustion and mild irritation, Paul smiles warmly. He looks over towards Richard’s lower half; his penis is now withdrawing into the slit once more—only the tip is peeking out. His scales are folding over the bright pink flesh, slowly but surely. It’ll be like that for another few minutes, he knows, only for it to appear as if there is nothing more but scales. 

And then Paul notices the huge mess of Richard’s milky cum and secretions sullying the blankets. He sighs. Well, maybe he didn’t think that through. They should’ve had their snacks foremost. 

Richard continues nuzzling into his thigh. Kissing over the warm skin worshipfully, letting his nose and lips trail across the soft, fair hair found there. Unsurprising to Paul, he even slinks a hand in-between his thighs to affectionately cradle his balls and softened, pink cock in the seat of his palm. Well… He can get away with it this time. At least he’s being gentle. Paul reaches out to pet at his merman’s black, ruffled hair, a tired smile on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> babypaulchen.tumblr.com


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